


Storms and Shadows

by tara_yoggs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Harry Potter, Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), BAMF Harry, BAMF Harry Potter, BAMF Luna Lovegood, BAMF Neville Longbottom, BAMF Severus Snape, Child Neglect, Dursley Family Bashing (Harry Potter), Evil Albus Dumbledore, Evil Lucius Malfoy, Evil Voldemort (Harry Potter), F/M, Ginny Weasley Bashing, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Good Severus Snape, Good Theodore Nott, Hermione Granger Bashing, Independent Harry Potter, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Molly Weasley Bashing, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Powerful Harry, Powerful Harry Potter, Protective Remus Lupin, Redeemed Dudley Dursley, Remus Lupin Bashing, Ron Weasley Bashing, Sad Harry, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Smart Harry Potter, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags May Change, Vernon Dursley Being an Asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21701227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tara_yoggs/pseuds/tara_yoggs
Summary: After the death of his godfather, Harry Potter receives a letter from Gringotts urging him to claim the assets Sirius left behind. While there, Harry discovers secrets about himself, his family, and the man he's been looking up to since first year.
Relationships: Amelia Bones & Susan Bones, Harry Potter/Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood & Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom & Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Susan Bones & Harry Potter
Comments: 82
Kudos: 640





	1. Strangers with Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Harry Potter.

**Harry**

Harry Potter knew, when he stepped onto the train at Hogsmeade Station, that the ride back to London would be unpleasant. His best friends had been polar opposites since the Ministry disaster. While Hermione had essentially commanded him to spill all of his grief to her, Ron had alienated him and avoided Harry whenever he could. 

Not that Harry could blame either of them. He had been stupid to charge head first to save Sirius when Hermione had repeatedly advised him not to. Harry knew he shouldn’t have taken his friends with him. If Harry had gone alone, maybe he would have been dead before Sirius got there. Maybe Sirius would still be alive. But, of course, Harry Potter had to be the _hero_ . He had to live up to his title of an impulsive Gryffindor and endanger everyone around him _again_. Because of Harry’s foolishness, Sirius had paid the price.

But this isn’t the time to get all emotional. 

_Sirius wouldn’t want me to give in to my grief,_ Harry thought, _I still have work to do._

With that thought, Harry plastered on a small smile he hoped looked casual, and boarded the train, his trunk rolling behind him. As Hedwig had already taken off towards Number 4 Privet Drive, Harry did not need to be overly careful with his trunk behind him. 

Harry didn’t want to drag his trunk through the whole train to find his friends, but he also didn’t want to claim an empty compartment and have Ron and Hermione search for him.

_But would they even search for me?_ Harry wondered. He didn’t want to find out.

Harry decided, instead of sticking his head inside every closed compartment, he would listen for Hermione lecturing about rules or Ron’s laughter.

So, Harry kept his ears open, and started walking down the train.

Harry was surprised at how easy it was to hear inside the compartments if you wanted to listen. The train hadn’t even taken off yet and Harry already knew that Draco Malfoy’s father had been sent to Azkaban, Zacharias Smith was cheating on Hannah Abbott with some Ravenclaw fourth year, and Alicia Spinnet had punched Miles Bletchley in the face.

Harry was ready to give up hope and just sit in the next open compartment when he caught the animated laugh of Ginny. Harry couldn’t help the warmth that spread in his chest when he heard her snicker. 

Almost instinctively, Harry stopped and held his breath, not wanting to interrupt Ginny’s laugh. 

“ _Hush_ , Ginny!” Harry heard Hermione scold, “Potter could walk in any second!”

_Potter?_ Harry wasn’t sure what to make of that. He resolved to listen and wait. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just too easy!” Ginny chuckled.

Ron decided to chime in, “She’s not wrong, Hermione. Potter’s more gullible now than ever.” Ron’s voice, however, held no laughter in it.

_What the hell are they talking about?_ Harry was puzzled, this did not sound like his best friend.

“Still, imagine how much work it would take to obliviate Potter if he found out-” Hermione cautioned, her voice dropping low, yet not decreasing in volume. 

“Relax, Hermione.” Ron interrupted. “If Potter somehow grows a brain and realizes what’s going on, Dumbledore could easily take him down and obliviate him.”

_No, Dumbledore would never do that to me…_

“No, Hermione’s right,” Ginny’s voice suddenly grew serious. “But, even if Dumbledore could easily ‘take down’ Potter, why hasn’t he already? Dumbledore says Potter is Dark, that he’ll be worse than You-Know-Who when he’s older. So, why wait until he is of age to kill him? Why bother with the Amortentia, the tests and trials every year? Why didn’t Dumbledore just finish the job himself when Potter was a baby?”

_Dark? Kill me? Amortentia?_ Harry’s froze in his place. A cold dread filled him as a shiver crawled its way up his spine. Harry was in a state of shock. He didn’t know whether to break in there and start firing curses or run away to India. What he wanted didn’t seem to matter, though, as he was so frightened and appalled his body couldn’t move from its place. He was, in a sense, a deer caught in headlights.

“You shouldn’t doubt Dumbledore like that, Ginny. It’s obviously part of the prophecy. Potter has to take down You-Know-Who _first_. As for the trials, that was simply a way for Dumbledore to push Potter firmly against You-Know-Who. It’s not like we can let Potter become a Death Eater.” Hermione voiced.

“But what does the prophecy _say_? Dumbledore hasn’t told us anything about it. I bet Potter already knows it, so we should, too.” Ron protested. 

_None of your bloody business, traitor._ Harry’s earlier cold dread was slowly becoming replaced with a fiery rage.

“I agree… alright, we’ll casually ask Potter about it when he gets here. But don’t make it sound forced or suspicious!” Hermione commanded.

“Ugh, do we really need to baby him? I don’t think I can put up with Potter another two years…” Ginny drawled. 

_The feeling is mutual, Ginny_. 

“Just think of all his gold we’ll get once Dumbledore finishes Potter’s will! The Weasleys will be one of the richest families in Britain.” Ron declared. 

Harry couldn’t listen anymore. These people were not his friends. They were strangers. Strangers he had shared his life with for over five years. Strangers who knew his hopes and dreams, his greatest hits, his worst fears. Strangers who knew all of his secrets…

_Not all of my secrets,_ Harry thought. _They don’t know everything, I still have the prophecy for now… and I see who they are now._

Harry would love nothing more than to burst through the door and curse everything that moves. Or break down ad scream in the middle of the corridor. Or run away to India. But, Harry knew that none of these options would solve anything. 

_Without them, what can I do now? They were everything to me, who do I have now?_ Harry was afraid to answer that question.

Luna and Neville came to mind, but for all he knew, they had hated him as well. If they weren’t in Dumbledore’s pockets, they would be traumatized by the fiasco at the Ministry.

He thought of Professor Lupin next, but the man had only ever been there for Harry when it was convenient.

_He helped me with the dementors, but I didn’t even know that he was best friends with my father until Sirius escaped from Azkaban. Why? He had every opportunity to see me when I was young, why did I have to grow up thinking my parents were drunken deadbeats? Does he blame me for their deaths? For Sirius’?_

Harry stopped that line of thought before it got away from him. If he couldn’t trust Ron, Ginny, or Hermione, he had to at least try to make amends with Luna and Neville. But first, Harry had to ensure that his former friends didn’t suspect him of knowing about their treachery. 

Steeling himself to look into the eyes of three traitors and not cursing them, Harry took a deep breath, put on a lazy smile, took a few steps back, and noisily made his way to the compartment. Harry couldn’t “catch them in the act” quite yet. He needed to know how deep this betrayal went.

Knocking on the door, Harry opened it, and forced himself to brighten up at the sight of his so-called friends. 

Hermione quickly morphed her face into one of sympathy and compassion. Ginny had straightened up and pushed her breasts out, batting her eyes in a way that she probably thought looked attractive. Ron took a bit longer to feign a warm smile, but Harry would have missed his pause if he wasn’t looking for it. Ron and Hermione were sitting next to each other, and Ginny was on the other seat immediately on his left, so Harry took the seat next to her by the window, across from Hermione, and packed away his trunk.

“Hey Harry, how are you?” Hermione asked in a kind voice. 

“Alright, I guess.” Harry shrugged, slouching onto the seat.

“Are you sure, Harry? We've all been worried about you, since, you know…” Ginny put her hand on his arm, leaning forward and making sure to put her breasts in plain view. 

_Great way to flirt, Ginny, make me talk about my godfather’s death._ Harry had thought he would be able to handle this, but his skin was itching and his chest was tightening. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears and it seems like the only thing that would help would be to scream or run or do _something_.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking, though.” Was all Harry could say. He hoped they would confuse his short reply for grief, though maybe it _was_ grief. His friends were gone, and they were never coming back. Really, it’s just a different type of grief. 

“How about a game of Exploding Snap we can all play? I’ll go easy on you, and later we can get snacks from the trolley.” Ron suggested.

_And I suppose I’ll be paying for you to stuff your face._

“Sure, we can use my trunk as a table for it.” Harry brought down his trunk to the middle of the floor, facing on it side so it would reach to their knees. 

Ron pulled the old cards out of his pocket and started shuffling them. 

“Listen, mate, we need to talk about the Ministry disaster-” Ron started.

Hermione gave Ron an annoyed look that was gone so fast Harry could have imagined it. 

“What Ron means to say, Harry, is that we’re here for you. Whether you need an ear to talk about Sirius, or Vol- Voldemort, or the Prophecy, we’re not going anywhere. We’re here for you.” Hermione explained.

If Harry had been just boarded the train a few minutes later, he would have believed every word of it. But, things were different now.

“I don’t want to talk about anything.” Harry stated.

“Oh, Harry, you can’t keep this pain locked inside forever. You need to let yourself grieve for your godfather, or you’ll never move on. If not that, then at least tell us about the Prophecy. You can trust us. We’re your friends, we deserve to know…” Ginny tried to persuade him, putting her free hand over his heart. 

Ron looked like he would be sick, and it was all Harry could do not to conjure a bucket for the both of them.

_You don’t deserve shit._ Harry couldn’t take any more of this. He needed to get out of there.

“No! I said I didn’t want to talk about it, okay?... I need to get some air.” Harry announced, taking his trunk with him.

Harry knew it was a lame excuse, but he honestly couldn't stand another second of their company.

“Harry, wait-” He slammed the door over Hermione’s attempt to calm him. If he never saw the three of them again, it would be too soon.

He needed to get out of there, but he wasn’t stupid enough to sit by himself. There was strength in numbers, and many Slytherins seemed particularly angry that many of their mothers and fathers had been imprisoned.

Harry made his way down the train, still trying to keep silent, to where he thought Neville and Luna might be. He didn’t have to look long, as he quickly ran into Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle. 

It was not an uncommon occurrence for Malfoy to attempt to threat or attack Harry on the train to or from Hogwarts, and Harry was glad to get it out of the way while he was still angry and looking to let out his frustrations. 

Malfoy was, unsurprisingly, bitter about his father being thrown in Azkaban, and had been looking for an opportunity to get Harry alone. 

Harry wasn’t intimidated at all by Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumbass, and knew that Malfoy, their ringleader, wasn’t much of a fight without them. 

As Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry and spat out his long winded rant and threats, Harry pondered how he would take out Crabbe and Goyle before dealing with Malfoy.

Though, to Harry’s surprise, he didn’t need to lift a finger as Neville, Luna, Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan, and Justin Finch-Fletchley had appeared out of the compartments almost perfectly in sync and had all fired curses at the trio without hesitation. Watching them all work together fluidly made Harry’s chest swell with pride. 

With Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy, taken care of Harry gazed upon the people who had come to his aide. Sure, Harry wasn’t in any real danger, but for him, it was the thought that counted.

Seeing the courage and determination in Neville and Luna’s eyes completely erased all suspicion he had of the two. Harry instantly felt terrible for doubting the two truest friends he had. Neville was easily the most supportive and sincere person he had ever met. Luna was always genuine and truthful with Harry.

_My life has become a very slippery slope… I can’t let myself fall down it,_ Harry resolved.

“Well, that’s one way to kick off summer,” Ernie Macmillan observed, startling Harry out of his thoughts.

Justin laughed,“Wish I could see Malfoy’s mother’s face when she sees her son,” 

Harry could imagine Narcissa Malfoy’s poised features, her nose turned up at the world, until her son comes into view and her perfect mask crumbles.

Harry chuckled along with the others, and struggled to smother the unnatural glee that surfaced at the thought. 

Justin and Ernie went back to their compartment after wishing everyone a good summer, and Neville, Luna, and surprisingly, Susan Bones, started back to their compartment. Harry didn’t know Susan was friends with Neville and Luna.

He should have known that. He should have been a better friend.

“Hey, er… do you guys mind if I sit with you? If not, it’s fine, I can-” Harry didn’t like the way his voice sounded. He was vulnerable.

“Of course you can, Harry.” Susan cut him off, to his relief. Harry did not want to go back to sitting with the traitors. 

Harry again sat on the left side of the compartment next to the window. Though, this time, Neville was sitting next to him, caring for his plant, Luna was across from him, staring at his forehead in deep concentration, and Susan was reading a muggle book called _The Handmaid’s Tale_. 

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while. Harry liked quiet. He didn’t get much in Gryffindor Tower, so this was a welcome change. It gave him time to think. If Harry got bored, he would silently challenge Luna to a staring contest, all of which ended with them trying and failing not to laugh, much to the confusion of the other two teenagers in the compartment. 

The silence broke when the trolley rolled by, them all paying for themselves. Neville had bought himself a few licorice wands, Luna purchased Sugar Quills and Chocolate Frogs, Susan favored Jelly Slugs and Cauldron Cakes, and Harry had also bought a couple Chocolate frogs along with Pumpkin Pasties.

Susan managed to trade a Cauldron Cake for one of Neville’s Licorice Wands after seeing him open them.

“Why not just buy it yourself, Susan?” Harry asked. 

“I didn’t know I wanted it until I saw it up close,” Susan said. 

Harry laughed. He wondered why he didn’t try to befriend Susan earlier. She was a bright person. 

“Harry, the wrackspurts are gone,” Luna finally spoke. She still hadn’t taken her eyes off his head. Usually, people staring at Harry would annoy him, but he knew it was just how Luna was. “You seem much happier without them.” Luna had at last moved her eyes away from his head.

“Yeah, I know. And I don’t think I’ll be letting them back in,” Harry said, knowing exactly what she meant. 

  
  



	2. A Rekindled Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry returns to Privet Drive, only to be surprised by a familiar face. More secrets are revealed, and Harry begins to take control of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter is out! Thank you all so much for your support! I'm not too happy with how slow I'm updating, but more will be coming soon! Please point out any spelling errors so I can fix it!

**Harry**

The remainder of the train ride to London was peaceful. Neville, Luna, and Susan were kind not to ask Harry why he wasn’t sitting with Ron and Hermione, which he was thankful for. Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted Susan to know about the loyalties of his ex-best friends, what with her mother being head of the DMLE. the last thing Harry needs is to go to political war with Dumbledore. Now that the public knows Voldemort is back, Dumbledore has been an inspiring presence in the wizarding world. 

While Neville, Luna, and Susan tried to rope Harry into the easy conversation, Harry didn’t speak much. How could he, when he had so much more important things to think about? Dumbledore would obviously have Order members guarding Number 4, and he may even restrict his mail. Not to mention Harry had to somehow find a way to survive Uncle Vernon’s quick temper and Aunt Petunia’s resentment of Harry’s very existence for two whole months. 

By the time the train arrives in London, Harry’s hands were clammy with sweat. It’s been two years since Vernon had struck Harry, two years of protection from Sirius. Harry couldn’t let Vernon know Sirius was dead. The threat of a clinically insane prison-escapee had been the only thing that had stayed Vernon’s hand. If Harry had to force a smile and pretend all was right with the world, so be it. Harry went two years without taking a beating, and wasn’t going to let it happen again. Even if it meant he couldn’t grieve. 

Harry couldn’t let his nerves show. He had to be calm and in control. He had to keep his head above water. Harry thought he had a decent poker face, though of course that was shot to hell as soon as Luna noticed. 

“Harry, you seem troubled. Is everything alright?” Luna spoke so softly, it wasn’t even close to Petunia’s screeching he was about to face. 

“Everything’s fine, Luna, but thank you for asking.” Harry forced his lips to curve into something resembling a smile. 

Harry could tell Luna didn’t believe him, even if she didn’t say anything after that. 

As odd as it was, Harry couldn’t wait to get off the train and get back to Number 4. Harry supposed it would be better to get it over with instead of drawing it out. 

So, when the Hogwarts Express came to a stop at King’s Cross Station, Harry was the first to leave the compartment. 

Rolling his trunk onto the platform, Harry stuck close to Neville, Luna, and Susan until he could find his Aunt and Uncle. 

As Neville caught sight of his grandmother walking towards them, he seemed to remember something. 

Neville turned to his friends, “I almost forgot, my Gran finally decided it’s time for me to take the title of Heir Longbottom, so we’re throwing a summer ball. The families of the entire Wizengamot are invited, so-” 

“Neville!” Madam Longbottom exclaimed. 

“I’ll owl you guys about it later,” Neville shrugged, before turning to greet his grandmother.

Harry had no idea what he was talking about, but he was only partially listening, instead keeping his attention on the crowd.

Harry was both relieved and dismayed to find his relatives so quickly, after they crossed the threshold from Platform 9 and ¾. 

Harry quickly said his goodbyes and made a beeline towrds his relatives, hoping to leave before and Order members could appear and make things worse. 

“Boy, we’ve been standing here all day! If you take this long to get hre again, you’re walking back to Privet Drive, you hear me?” Vernon threatened. Harry nodded.

Harry didn’t mention that this was the quickest he had ever gotten from the train to the station. He also wasn’t surprised to hear such a warm welcome home from Vernon, and decided not to provoke the man for as long as he could. 

_I can’t lose my temper right now,_ Harry thought.

“Where’s that pest of yours, boy? Have you gotten it killed yet?” Petunia snapped, gesturing to Hedwig’s empty cage. 

_This is going to be harder than I thought,_ Harry clenched his jaw. 

“Hedwig is flying back to Privet Drive.” Harry stated, careful to keep any contempt out of his voice. He learned a long time ago that if he didn’t show outward emotion to his relatives, they would quickly get bored of him. 

“Let’s just go home,” Dudley suggested. 

Harry almost hadn’t noticed him, what with the way Dudley had kept a distance from them all. Not to mention with the pensive look on his face, he looked like an entirely different person.

Harry could ponder his cousin’s odd mannerisms later. He _was_ in a rush to leave before being spotted by anyone who could share the news of Sirius’ death. 

“You’re right Diddykins, the sooner we get away from this lot, the better.” Petunia sniffed. 

* * *

The ride back to Privet Drive was spent in a tense silence.

Dudley had cast many glances at Harry throughout the ride, but didn’t rack up the courage to say what he wanted. Harry had a feeling that whatever Dudley wanted, it couldn’t be anything good. 

Once they entered the house, Harry immediately made his way to his small bedroom, not giving Dudley the chance to corner him, or Vernon the opportunity to remember to throw Harry’s school trunk into the cupboard under the stairs. 

Upon entering his bedroom, Harry hurried to open his window, allowing Hedwig to enter. 

“Hey girl, I’m glad you got here safe,” Harry allowed her to perch on his left arm. 

“You must be tired, you want some treats?” He offered. Hedwig nipped at his ear affectionately, and turned her head towards his trunk. 

Harry let out a soft chuckle and marveled at how smart his snowy owl was. 

Turning towards his trunk he had left by the door, Harry let out a surprised gasp at the sight before him. In an instant, Harry was holding his wand in his right hand, and had pushed Hedwig behind him with his left, shielding her with his body. 

Hedwig let out an indignant hoot, not pleased with being unseated from Harry’s left arm. 

Standing before him was a goblin in all black attire, holding an elegant looking letter in his hands, and looking like he’d rather be anwhere but here. 

“Griphook?” Harry asked, unable to fathom how a goblin could silently appaate through all of the wards around Number 4 Privet Drive. Harry lowered his wand, but kept it in his grasp.

For half a second, Griphook looked slightly taken aback at the sound of his name, though Harry couldn’t see why. He quickly composed himself, and began reading the letter as if Harry hadn’t spoken at all. 

“Mr. Potter,” Griphook began, “you are formally invited to attend the will reading of the deceased Lord Sirius Black. The reading of the will shall take place at noon, tomorrow, from Gringotts’ London branch. If you are unable to attend said will-reading, please owl Gringotts Director Ragnok as soon as possible.”

Griphook finished with a nasty look on his face. 

“What-... Sirius had a will?” To say Harry was shocked was a huge understatement. 

When had Sirius done that? How could he, if he was a wanted man across the entire country? And had Griphook just called Sirius a lord? 

“Yes, Lord Black had created one on the summer of 1994, after contacting Gringotts and discovering the fake will.” Griphook spoke slowly, as if explaining something to a small child.

“Fake will? He contacted Gringotts? He was a wanted man, why not turn him in?” Harry’s head was spinning. 

Griphook seemed to come to a realization of sorts, and looked at Harry as if seeing him for the first time. 

“Mr. Potter, when was the last time you recieved a letter from Gringotts?” Griphook spoke slowly again, but with more caution this time. 

“A letter from Gringotts? Never. Why?” Things were getting more complicated by the minute. 

Griphook’s face suddenly morphed into a stone cold mask, his body shook with barely concealed rage. Harry spotted a large vein pop out of Griphook’s forehead before taking a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

“That’s why you never responded… oh, that manipulative bastard,” Griphook cursed, before remembering where he was. Griphook took only a moment to compose himself, before seemingly calming down. 

“Mr. Potter, you are the heir to three Noble Houses. The only person who could be interfering with your Gringotts letters is your magical guardian, Albus Dumbledore. Unfortunately, Dumbledore has attempted to seal the will of Lord Black, but as his heir, you could unseal it. If you choose to do so, Gringotts will arange for you to take up your position as Lord Black tonight.” Griphook explained, careful to keep any emotion from his vioce. 

_Dumbledore. It’s always Dumbledore._

As if on cue, Dumbledore’s phoenix, Fawkes, appeared in a brilliant flash of light.

“What the hell is going on up there, boy?” came Vernon’s schreech from downstairs. 

“Er- my lamp light went out!” Harry called back, mentally wincing at his weak lie. 

Harry thought he saw Griphook smirk at him before his face turned back into its resting angry expression. 

Fawkes soared a lap around the room and gracefully landed on Harry’s bed, sticking a claw out, holding a letter.

“Hey, Fawkes. You have a letter for me?” Harry asked. He walked towards the closed door, where his trunk lay forgotten, and pulled out two treats for Hedwig and Fawkes. 

Hedwig flew over to Harry and perched on his left shoulder, taking the treat and giving an affectionate nip at his ear. 

Harry then walked over to Fawkes, with Hedwig still on his shoulder, and traded a treat for the letter. 

Opening the letter, Harry read Dumbledore’s loopy handwriting.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m afraid Voldemort is in the process of recruiting the Goblins of Gringotts to join him in his plans. If you happen to recieve a letter from Gringotts or are visited by a Goblin, please notify me immediately. If they attempt to bring you Gringotts for any reason, please don’t go. It is entirely possible that they are attempting to set a trap. Instead, I may go in your place, to ensure your safety. The blood wards around your home should be sufficient at keeping them out, but to be safe, I will be posting Order guards around Number 4, Privet Drive for the remainder of the summer. Under no circumstances should you leave the property. As much as I regret to say this, we need the blood wards provided by your mother’s sacrifice now more than ever. Therefore, you shall have to stay at Privet Drive until August 31, where you will then be able to spend the last night of summer with your friends at the Burrow. Fear not, using your Gringotts key, we will be able to purchase your supplies for next year and they will be delivered to you at the Burrow. I know the circumstances are troublesome, but your parents and Sirius would have wanted you to stay safe. I trust you will be able to make the most out of your summer, and I will see you on the first of September._

_Best wishes,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Harry could almost laugh. “Why do you stay by his side, Fawkes?” Harry asked. 

Fawkes gazed at Harry with an almost sad expression, if phoenixes could look sad, and gave a low, sorrowful trill. 

Breaking away from Fawkes’ gaze, Harry took a deep breath, and turned back towards Griphook. 

“I want Sirius’ will unsealed. I want to know everything.” With a newly rekindled fire burning in the green of Harry’s eyes, he was determined to set right all of the wrongs he had endured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!


	3. Not a Waste of Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Griphook helps Harry, Vernon is an idiot, Fawkes and Hedwig make a great team, and Harry is not a waste of space.

**Harry**

Griphook was looking at Harry oddly. He thought there was almost a gleam of respect in his eyes, but that was absurd, so Harry quickly dismissed the notion. 

“So, how will we get to Gringotts?” Harry asked. “By now, Dumbledore has guards placed around the house; if I leave with the Knight Bus, they’ll see me.”

Griphook pulled a gold pendant with a black stone out of his pocket. One one side of the stone, a ‘G’ was engraved, and on the other side there was an outline of a stag.

“This is your family’s Gringotts portkey. Tomorrow morning, put it on at eight o’clock. Say the word ‘Gringotts’ and it will take you to my office. There, you shall take up your lordships in time for the will reading at noon.” Griphook instructed in his naturally formal tone.

“Thank you, Griphook.” Harry said sincerely, accepting the necklace. “Will you be able to apparate out alright?” 

Griphook nodded. Just as silently as he appeared, Griphook turned around and was gone. 

Harry pocketed the pendant and looked at Fawkes, who was trying to befriend Hedwig, and thought about the situation he was in. 

Just a moment ago, he, Harry, a fifteen year old wizard spoke to a goblin about taking up lordships while a snowy owl and phoenix stood witnessed in Little Whinging, Surrey. The world truly was a strange place. 

“What now, Fawkes? I’m not going to reply to Dumbledore’s letter, so you can go back now if you want.” Harry shrugged.

Fawkes looked at Harry and settled further on his bed.

_ So, Fawkes doesn’t want to return to Dumbledore… _

“Alright, I’ll bite. Why don’t you want to go back?” Harry asked, not really expecting an answer. 

Fawkes gave a sad trill again, unfortunately heard by Harry’s relatives. 

Before Harry could stop Fawkes, he had already heard Vernon’s thundering stomps up the stairs. 

“Shit! Er, Fawkes, Hedwig, you both need to hide!” Harry exclaimed. 

With Harry’s uncle making his way closer to the bedroom, Harry looked around frantically, searching for some sort of cover for the two birds. 

Seeing his closet, Harry picked up the birds, violently opened the door, set them down, and closed it just as Vernon barreled into the room. 

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you, boy?” Vernon stomped over to Harry, lifting him by his collar. “I don’t know what sort of freakish nonsense you have going on here, but I won’t tolerate it in my house any longer!” 

Harry gripped Vernon’s arm, just in case Vernon decided to strangle him.

Vernon had turned a violent shade of purple and had spit running down his chin. Pinning Harry against a wall, Vernon himself was practically squished against Harry’s wardrobe, unaware of the desperate thuds of the two birds inside. 

Harry was no stranger to pain. In fact, he had been his relatives’ personal punching bag since he was a baby. While Harry used to be terrified of his cousin’s fists, his aunt’s frying pan, and his uncle’s belt, the Dursleys were nowhere near as scary as the constant threat of death that followed Harry every new school year. Along with being crucio’d by Voldemort himself, Harry’s pain tolerance was higher than ever.

Even so, Harry hadn’t been hit by his uncle since he was thirteen, and was shocked when Vernon’s meaty fist connected with his nose. Harry’s head jolted to the side as a sharp pain traveled along his nose and his eyes started to water. 

Harry wanted nothing more than to pull his wand out of his pocket and set his uncle on fire, but that would certainly get him expelled, and that wouldn’t do. 

Harry still had work to do. 

As blow after blow landed on Harry’s face, he could feel blood running down his nose and saw it staining Vernon’s fist. He scrambled for a way to stop Vernon without using magic. Then an idea struck him. 

_ I may not be able to use magic, but that doesn’t mean I have nothing. _ Harry was starting to get dizzy, but he forced himself to focus. He would probably only get one chance at this. 

Harry let go of Vernon’s arm, still attached to his collar, and let himself fall to the floor. Vernon, not interrupted, switched to kicking Harry’s middle. The first kick knocked the air out of Harry’s lungs, but he forced himself not to panic as he gasped for breath.

A moment later, Harry heard two distinct cracks from his ribs, and knew he would need to be faster. But one poorly aimed kick landed on Harry’s temple, and he could no longer hear Vernon’s grunts or his own gasps of pain. The only thing Harry could hear was his frantic heartbeat pounding in his head. After Vernon’s next blow to Harry’s stomach, Harry quickly rolled to the side, his back to his uncle, his stomach against the wardrobe.

The panicked thumping of Hedwig and Fawkes from inside the wardrobe had been muffled by the wooden door, but up close, Harry could feel the flapping of wings and the scratching of claws against the wood. 

“Get up, boy! Face me like a man!” Vernon bellowed, pausing his attack.

Harry gripped the handle of the wardrobe, acting as if using it as support to stand, but once he got to his knees, he opened the door and released the birds. 

Harry saw only a blur of white and red as Hedwig and Fawkes went straight for Vernon. 

Harry tried to focus his eyes, he wanted to see what was happening to Vernon, until he realized that at some point, he had lost his glasses. 

As Vernon screamed in pain, Harry searched around him, groping the floor. Harry saw a small black blur by the wall and instinctively grasped it, only to let it fall back to the floor when broken glass punctured his fingers. 

Harry cursed, for they were broken. Carefully picking them up again and holding them up to his face, Harry could make out that one rim was cracked, but still in place, and the other was missing most of the glass and had no temple. 

Harry could hear the light tapping of Petunia’s shoes as she rushed up the stairs, followed by the heavier thuds of Dudley.

Wanting to see what was happening, to be able to interfere if need be, Harry hooked the remaining temple behind his ear, and held the other side up with his left hand. 

Harry would cherish what he saw until the day he died. Vernon was on the ground, hands over his eyes, while Fawkes tried to peck them out. Hedwig was flying overhead, occasionally rushing down to claw at Vernon’s exposed skin. 

That was the picture Petunia and Dudley came upon when they opened the door. Harry, bloody and broken, leaning against his wardrobe and holding his broken glasses to his face while Vernon was pecked and clawed at by a white snowy owl and an actual phoenix. 

Dudley seemed to be completely frozen as he watched the scene, while Petunia screamed and tried to hit Hedwig with a shoe she had taken off. 

Hedwig, who had never dared attack Petunia after Harry warned her that his aunt would kill her, seemed to have lost her reluctance. Taking after Fawkes, Hedwig went straight for her eyes as Petunia swatted everywhere Hedwig wasn’t. 

This prompted Dudley out of his stupor and he quickly shoved his mother behind him, taking on Hedwig himself. 

“Stop!” Harry yelled with an authority he had never felt before. Immediately, Hedwig and Fawkes stopped their assault on Harry’s relatives and hovered in the air, looking to Harry for instructions. 

“Hedwig, Fawkes, to me!” The birds immediately flew over to Harry, Hedwig landing on Harry’s head, acting as some sort of guard dog, while Fawkes took the liberty to start crying on Harry’s wounds. 

“Get out, you three. Don’t come to bother me again or I won’t stop them.” Harry hoped his voice sounded stronger than he felt, for the adrenaline that pushed Harry this whole time was wearing off and he didn’t want to collapse in front of three angry monsters he called family. 

“Just you wait, boy, I’m not finished with you, yet!” Vernon threatened, before waddling out of the room, followed by Petunia, who was muttering about what the neighbors will think of all this noise.

Dudley, however, paused before leaving, the same look on his face as earlier in the car. He took one last look at Harry, and it seemed time stopped as the two boys stared at each other. 

Harry compared himself to Dudley. While he was bleeding on the ground, with an owl and phoenix nursing his wounds, Dudley stood perfectly fine (aside from his right forearm Hedwig managed to scratch). Harry, for once in his life, knew exactly what needed to be done and was certain that he wouldn’t be alone doing it. Dudley, on the other hand, had never looked more lost. 

Harry didn’t know why he stopped Hedwig from hurting Dudley. Perhaps it was because he had never seen him defend someone else before, even his own mother. Perhaps the blow to Harry’s head had made him see things. Either way, Harry knew he should say something.

Harry looked away first, choosing instead to set his gaze on Fawkes, who had completely healed his torso, and now just needed access to his face. 

“You… are not your parents, Dudley. Maybe I will never understand you… and maybe you will always think that I’m a waste of space… but this can’t go on forever.” Harry met Dudley’s eyes again to see the lost look on his face was gone. 

Without a word, Dudley left, the door still open and empty.

A moment later Harry heard the bathroom sink, and then Dudley reappeared, holding a wet rag. Dudley approached Harry, ignoring Hedwig’s threatening stance on Harry’s head, kneeled down, and held the cloth out to Harry. 

“I don’t think you’re a waste of space.” Dudley said. 

Harry took the rag, and started wiping at his face. 

“Thank you, Dudley.” Harry said, sincerely. Maybe Dudley wouldn’t turn out to be as bad as his parents after all. 

“Is-… is there anything I can do?” Dudley asked, looking down. 

_ I was going to wait until morning, but I suppose Griphook will just have to suffer my company a little longer, _ Harry decided. 

“You can bring me my trunk,” Harry replied, and at Dudley’s apprehensive look, Harry added, “Don’t worry, it’s not dangerous or anything,”

“Right,” Dudley nodded, walked to the other side of the room, and rolled Harry’s trunk to him. 

Gripping the trunk, Harry stood up, holding out his left arm so that Hedwig and Fawkes could stand on them. Hedwig took his arm, while Fawkes decided to stand on the top of the trunk. 

“So, is there some sort of magical potion or something in there that will help you get better?” Dudley asked, quietly. 

“No,” Harry chuckled, “Frankly, I’ve never been any good at potions,” Harry shrugged.

“I’m, er, leaving.” Harry admitted. He took his Gringotts pendant out of his pocket and hung it around his neck. 

“Now?” Dudley asked. 

“I’m-... I’m not safe here, Dudley. I never have been. I was going to stay here tonight and leave tomorrow, but I can’t risk getting hurt by your father again.” Harry said, solemnly. “I’m going to be emancipated tomorrow morning. I was saving the goodbyes for then, but I suppose I’ll have to make do, now.” Harry held out his hand to Dudley. 

Dudley looked Harry in the eyes, as if questioning if he was serious, before shaking his hand. 

“If I make it out of this war alive, I’ll contact you, if you like.” Harry offered, hoping to hold on to the only family he had left. 

“I’d like that,” Dudley nodded. 

“Oh, before I leave, you may be in danger because of me,” Harry said. Any semblance of hope left the room and was replaced with a grim feeling. “Try to convince your parents to move. Australia, or something would be good. Away from the UK. The man trying to kill me would also come after you if he knew the blood wards were broken.”

“Australia? We can’t just pack up and leave! My parents love our lives here, I won’t be able to convince them,” Dudley shook his head.

“You have to, Dudley. They won’t be able to love their lives if they’re dead. Remind them about the dementors, and the snake I set on you when we were eleven. Your parents may be bloody insane, but they love you more than anything. If you convince them that you’re not safe here, they will move.” Harry hoped he was right. 

“What will you do?” Dudley changed the subject.

“Me?” Harry asked, “I’m going to kill the man who murdered my parents, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to make the wizarding world safe again.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo hoo! Another chapter! Please tell me what you think! Did you like it? Hate it? What did I do good? What can I do better? How is your day going? I want to know!
> 
> Stay safe and healthy out there, my friends!


	4. The Soul of a Psychopath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry arrives at Gringotts, where he makes some unnerving discoveries.

**Harry**

Taking one last look around his room, Harry realised that there was one thing he still had to take care of. 

Fawkes. 

While he knew he would be able to take Hedwig with him wherever he went, Fawkes needed to go back to Dumbledore. As much as Harry hated it, he needed to protect himself and the ones he loves. To do so, he cannot show his hand to Dumbledore so soon. Dumbleore must think that Harry trusts him. Harry had no doubt that stealing his phoenix would bring unnecessary trouble. 

Turning away from Dudley to face the majestic creature in front of him, Harry kneeled down to be at eye level with him. 

“Fawkes,” Harry said softly, “You need to go back to Dumbledore.”

Fawkes ruffled his feathers and gave an indignant trill. 

“Not forever,” Harry assured quickly, putting his hands up in a placating manner, “I promise, one day soon, you will be free. But, for now, Dumbledore _can’t_ suspect anything.” 

Fawkes seemed to take in his words, and with an incredible burst of fire, the bird had disappeared. 

Harry now turned to Hedwig, still perched on his arm, and beckoned her into the traveling cage.

Dudley, who had just stood awkwardly and watched the whole exchange, chose now to speak up. 

“So, how are you going to leave?” Dudley asked.

Harry stood, and gripped his Gringotts pendant around his neck. 

“This is a portkey, if I say a specific word while touching it, it will, er, teleport me to a specific place.” Harry explained. 

Dudley’s eyes widened, it seemed the more he learned about his cousin’s world, the less he knew about it. 

“Oh, well, er- that’s neat,” Dudley said.

There was an awkward silence between the two boys, neither knowing how to say goodbye. 

“You, er, your face is still bloody,” Dudley reminded him. 

Harry had forgotten about how his face was still injured. Gently touching around, Harry could feel that his nose was definitely broken and his eyes were swelling up. Not to mention the glasses that Harry had given up on and dropped at some point. 

“I’ll take care of it when I get there,” Harry shrugged, carefully picking up his broken glasses and pocketing the remains. 

“Where will you go?” Dudley asked.

“The wizarding bank, I’m getting emancipated there,” Harry tried to keep it simple.

“Oh, well, good luck, Harry.” Dudley nodded at him. 

“You too, Dudley.” Harry nodded back. 

Taking his trunk and Hedwig’s cage in one hand, and holding the stone pendant in the other, Harry called out in a clear voice, “Gringotts!”, and disappeared.

\---

The familiar tugging behind his naval was something Harry thought he would never get used to. In an instant, Harry dropped gracelessly to his knees in front of Griphook’s desk. Harry quickly got to his feet, fighting off a wave of nausea.

Griphook, who had been writing on his desk, jumped to his feet at the sight of the bloody teenager who was scrambling for balance. 

“Mr. Potter,” Griphook bowed with a sneer, “I believe our appointment was scheduled for eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Harry explained, “But circumstances changed and… I was no longer safe at Privet Drive,” Harry gestured to his bruised and bloody face. 

_Like I was ever safe a the Dursleys,_ Harry thought bitterly.

Griphook studied him for a moment, then nodded, seeming to come to a decision. “Take a seat then, Mr. Potter.” 

Harry and Griphook both took their respective seats on either side of the desk. Harry took in his surroundings; the office was larger than he thought it would be, made of the same stone as the rest of Gringotts, with a polished wooden desk and a large bookcase with books and files with words he assumed to be Gobbledegook. Harry’s chair was a comfortable size, larger than Griphook’s, yet the goblin still seemed to tower over him. 

Griphook wrote out a quick letter, then held it in his hands before it promptly burnt to ash.

 _Goblin magic,_ Harry realized.

“I’ve sent a letter to our best healer, she will tend to your injuries, then we shall go over all statements regarding your lordships.” Griphook said.

“Thank you,” Harry replied. The shock had worn a while ago, Harry could feel the bruising begin to throb and swell.

Harry sat in awkward silence, watching Hedwig settle in her cage.

Without warning, the door to Griphook’s office opened and a female goblin stepped inside. 

“Mr. Potter,” she bowed, “My name is Selkea. Normally, you would be escorted to our healing ward, but we feel it would be in your best interest if you are not seen by any other wizards at this time.” She stated, flatly. 

“Right, thank you, Selkea,” Harry said sincerely. 

Selkea blinked at Harry, before stepping further into the room until she was only a few feet away from him.

“I am going to perform an in depth diagnostic charm, you may feel unsettled for a moment, but it will wear off once I finish.” Without pause, Selkea held both hands up and started chanting in a gruff language.

Immediately, a red glow shimmered on Harry’s bronze skin and did begin to feel queasy. Red words began to appear in front of Harry in Gobbledegook as if it were being typed out. Harry hoped the diagnostic wasn’t too invasive, he didn’t want anyone to know exactly what he’d been through.

The chanting stopped after a few moments, but the red glow and words still continued on. Harry looked from Selkea to Griphook, who both began to grow alarmed.

Finally, the writing stopped but no one spoke. Selkea was right, as soon as the red glow disappeared, so did the nausea. Harry looked away from the goblins and at his hands. He didn’t want to speak, in fact, he wanted to leave and never have to look at them again. He wouldn’t be able to handle their pity. 

Griphook snapped out of his surprise first. “Selkea, please translate the diagnostic into english.” He spoke, devoid of emotion. 

Harry looked up, there wasn’t pity on their faces, it was rage.

 _They’re goblins, warriors, I need to stop underestimating them._ Harry concluded.

Without saying a word, Selkea waved her hand and the letters warped and switched around until it was all english. The report was sorted chronologically, dating all afflictions from birth to today. 

Harry skimmed the top and saw nothing out of the ordinary: a few mosquito bites, the odd trip or fall, and a scratch from a cat. 

Harry skipped over the rest until he got to the bottom, knowing more than half of his injuries were from the blatant abuse of the Dursleys. Harry was about to tell the goblins he had seen enough, before his eyes zeroed in on the very bottom of the diagnostic.

**_Critical Report_ ** _\- Hadrian James Potter’s current afflictions:_

  * _Slow-acting Amortenia; Keyed to: Ginerva Weasley; Brewed by: Molly Weasley nee Prewett_


  * Fealty Spell; Keyed to: Gryffindor House; Cast by: Albus Dumbledore


  * Fealty Spell; Keyed to: Albus Dumbledore; Cast by: Albus Dumbledore


  * Fealty Spell; Keyed to:Ronald Weasley; Cast by: Albus Dumbledore


  * Fealty Spell; Keyed to: Hermione Granger; Cast by: Albus Dumbledore


  * Aversion Curse; Keyed to: Slytherin House; Cast by: Albus Dumbledore


  * Aversion Curse: Keyed to: Dark Magic; Cast by: Albus Dumbledore


  * Aversion Curse; Keyed to: Draco Malfoy; Cast by: Albus Dumbledore


  * Aversion Curse; Keyed to: Severus Snape; Cast by: Albus Dumbledore


  * Obliviation Spell; Cast by: Albus Dumbledore


  * 75% Block: Magical Core; Cast by: Albus Dumbledore


  * 100% Block: Occlusion Ability; Cast by: Albus Dumbledore


  * 100% Block: Parsel Magic; Cast by: Albus Dumbledore


  * 100% Block: Animagus Ability; Cast by: Albus Dumbledore


  * 100% Block: Advanced Healing Ability; Cast by: Albus Dumbledore


  * 100% Block: Partial Metamorphmagus Ability; Cast by: Ablus Dumbledore


  * Horcrux of Tom Riddle; Located in Curse Scar on forehead



Harry took a moment to process everything he read. Then he read it again, and then a third time, yet the words didn’t change. 

_Since when is my name Hadrian?_ Harry wondered, feeling a bit disgruntled at being kept in the dark about his own name. 

_Hadrian James Potter,_ Harry thought. It sounded foreign to him, even in his own mind.

 _I suppose it’s better than Harry,_ he concluded.

Hadrian understood what most of the curses and spells did, but hadn’t had the faintest idea about what a horcrux was, or what it was doing in his scar. Knowing that it was Voldemort’s horcrux, he knew it could be nothing but terrible.

“Er, what's a horcrux?” Hadrian asked hesitantly. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“It takes very dark magic to create one,” Griphook sneered, speaking slowly. “It is an object that houses a piece of a human soul. It can only be made after committing murder. Only a wizard foolish enough to crave immortality would ever try to make one.” 

Hadrian blinked. His breathing quickened, and the color drained from his face. Everything made sense; his connection to Voldemort, his visions, the pain in his scar by being near him.

 _I have the soul of a psychopath in my head._ The thought circled through his mind, repeating over and over again. Hadrian felt sick, he wanted it _out_. 

_Does Voldemort know?_ Hadrian dismissed the thought, Voldemort would never try to kill him if he knew it would lead to his own downfall. 

“How do I get it out?” Hadrian asked desperately. He _needed_ it gone, and he needed it gone _now._ His hands were clammy and shaking, so he gripped the armrests until his knuckles turned white.

Griphook and Selkea glanced at each other, then back at him. The pair was no longer sneering, but Hadrian couldn’t make out their expressions.

Hadrian knew the answer before Griphook spoke.

“The only way to destroy a horcrux… is to destroy the container.”

Harian then understood the look in their faces.

 _They pity me,_ was Hadrian’s last thought before he lost consciousness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, this took a while to write, please don't hate me. I'm about to go on vacation for a few days, but when I get back, I plan on writing more. My heart is thumping in my chest, I hope the last scene was as exciting for you to read as it was or me to write! 
> 
> Btw, happy 4th of July everyone! I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy!


	5. Live My Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hadrian vomits, and gets down to business with the goblins. Dumbledore is having a no good, very bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg guess who updated twice in the same month!
> 
> I just realized today is Harry's birthday so I've been typing for about three hours straight to finish this. 
> 
> I hope you guys like it!

**Hadrian**

“Only a child-”

Hadrian woke up sweating and cold. Every muscle was aching and his mind was cloudy. 

“The study ended before-"

Deep, raspy voices whispered rapidly to Hadrian’s right side. He tried opening his eyes, but they stayed stubbornly closed. Hadrian eventually gave up and almost let himself sink back into unconsciousness until he was startled out of his sleepy state.

“ _ -SIX HUNDRED YEARS AGO! _ ”

Hadrian jolted up into a sitting position, which only served to muddle his mind and set afire his already sore muscles. 

“Am I hungov’r?” Hadrian muttered to himself, blinking away his fatigue.

“That would be one way of putting it,” Griphook bowed to his right.

Hadrian’s head whipped around, Griphook and Selkea stood a few feet away. They were no longer in Griphook’s office, but in another stone room, with a single large window, a plain white bed, and a dark wooden desk to Harry’s left.

_ This must be some sort of hospital room, _ Hadrian deduced. He was no longer in his clothes, but in grey cotton pants and a matching long-sleeved t-shirt that clung to his skin from sweat. 

Hadrian remembered everything that led up to this moment, and felt a wave of nausea creep up his throat.

_ I’m going to need a bucket before I- _

With a sharp crack, a blue plastic bucket appeared before him just in time for Hadrian to heave bile into it. Selkea brought him a stomach soother, and Hadrian quickly gulped it down before he could gag at the taste. 

“Thank you,” Hadrian muttered. “For the bucket, too,” Hadrian set the bucket on the ground, not sure what to do with it.

“That was not us, Mr. Potter,” Selkea shook her head, “Your magic produced the bucket,”

Hadrian glanced at the bucket, then back at the goblins. “But… I didn’t even use my wand,”

“While you were unconscious,” Griphook began, “We took the liberty to free you of your compulsions, purge you of potions, and release you of all magical blocks. The majority of your magical core has been blocked for most of your life, I don’t doubt that your magic may be unpredictable until it settles. That being said, there is only one spell currently afflicting you, the Obliviation Spell, which I suggested not to fix until a later date,” 

“Thank you for fixing me, if it costs anything, take it from the…” Hadrian wasn’t sure which vault to use to pay them. Dumbledore was probably monitoring the Potter and Black vaults, so that only left one more. “Peverell vault. Take it from the Peverell vault.” Hadrian stated. 

“A wise choice, Mr. Potter.” Griphook gave him a toothy grin. 

“Also, may I ask why I shouldn’t correct the Obliviation?” Hadrian asked.

“The potion used to counter the obliviation has certain side effects such as migraines and dizziness, as well as it could potentially reveal mentally blocked memories.” Selkea answered. “The effects can last up to forty-eight hours, so it may be wise to wait until you have scheduled a time without interruptions.”

“Got it, I’ll wait, then. Could I have the potion now, and take it later at home?” Hadrian requested.

“Of course,” Griphook gave a curt nod to Selkea, who immediately went to fetch the potion. “Shall we take payment from the Peverell vault as well?” Griphook asked.

“Yes,” Hadrian confirmed. 

“Very well,” Griphook gestured to a door on Hadrian’s left. “A restroom is there with your trunk, wand, and owl. We will leave you to freshen up, then we may continue our business.” Griphook bowed once more, and left.

Hadrian pocketed the potion and stood up on shaking and sore legs, barely avoiding stepping in the bile filled bucket by his side.

Hadrian went for his wand, before remembering it was in the restroom.

_ I wonder…  _ Hadrian held his hands out, palms facing the bucket, wishing for it to disappear. The bucket did not vanish. 

He tried again, this time snapping with his right hand, like in the movies. Hadrian thought the bucket became transparent for a moment, but it was back to normal as soon as he noticed it.

Hadrian huffed, crossing his arms. He considered going for his wand, but decided he needed to learn not to rely on it forever. 

Sitting down on the floor, Hadrian crossed his legs, facing the bucket, which was beginning to smell. 

Hadrian rested his hands on his knees and concentrated. Concentrating on what, he did not know. Taking deep breaths, Hadrian closed his eyes and pictured the bucket. 

Hadrian began to feel something warm stirring inside him, something  _ alive _ . He focused on it, and though his eyes were closed, Hadrian began to see. All around him was magic. He could feel wards woven into the walls, he could see enchantments in the air, and he could feel his own magic inside the bucket in front of him.

Hadrin took another deep breath, trying to pull the warmth in the bucket back inside him. He wanted it gone. He wanted it gone. He wanted it  _ gone _ . 

A sharp crack startled Hadrian into opening his eyes only to see an empty floor where the bucket once was. 

Hadrian grinned, he could do wandless magic! Feeling satisfied with his work, he turned and walked to the restroom with a skip in his step. 

Entering the bathroom, Hadrian found his wand and glasses on the counter, with his trunk and owl sitting next to the sink. 

“Hey, girl. Are you doing alright?” Hadrian stepped towards Hedwig, who seemed to be appraising him. Satisfied with what she saw, she gave him a light chirp in response.

Hadrian grabbed his glasses, which were now in better shape than ever, only to find they made his sight blurry. He took them off, and his vision cleared once more.

“Alright, that’s new,” Hadrian shrugged. He wouldn’t complain about not needing glasses, they had never helped much anyway. 

Taking a step back, Hadrian observed himself in the mirror. He couldn’t remember ever looking at himself without his glasses, and the boy in front of him seemed somewhat unfamiliar. He still had his black curly hair which stuck up in every direction. He still had golden bronze skin, just a few shades lighter than his father’s. He still had the piercing bottle green eyes of his mother’s. He still had his infamous lightning bolt scar which ripped across his forehead and forked and zig-zagged across his skin, ending just above his nose. 

Hadrian gave a disgusted look at his scar, wishing he had never gotten the damned thing. He parted his hair toward his forehead, his curls covering most of the scar, before remembering what he read from the diagnostic. 

_ Partial metamorphmagus ability… _ Hadrian thought. He knew it was as easy as breathing for Tonks to change her appearance, but she was a full metamorphmagus. 

_ Hopefully I can find something about it in the Black family library. _

Hadrian shelved that thought for later, not wanting Griphook to wait long for him. 

Hadrian undressed and left the folded hospital clothes on the sink. He pulled out his Hogwarts uniform, putting on his white button-down and black slacks, but foregoing the robe. Gathering his things, Hadrian pocketed his wand, placed the Obliviation antidote in the trunk, and pulled his trunk and Hedwig behind him. 

Hadrian found Griphook outside the room by the door, standing patiently for Hadrian.

Griphook nodded to him, and without a word the two set off down the stone hallway towards Griphook’s office. Thankfully, they did not need to pass the lobby, and only saw other goblins while they walked. 

“I’m surprised the Ministry hasn’t sent an expulsion letter yet, for making that bucket,” Hadrian remarked.

“The Ministry cannot track who does magic, only locations. So long as you are in the magical world, they will have no way of knowing that you produced the bucket.” Griphook answered.

_ That explains why I was blamed for Dobby’s levitation spell. _ Hadrian felt a twinge of annoyance, that had bought him a severe beating from Vernon and no food for the rest of the week. Hadrian held back a flinch at the memory. 

The two entered Griphook’s office and got down to business. Griphook pulled out three small velvet boxes and set them on the desk. 

“There are your lordship rings, to become lord of your houses, you must simply put them on your finger. If they do not accept you, they will return to their respective box until another lord or lady is eligible to become head of the house. Though, I don’t expect that to happen.”

Hadrian pulled the box to his far left towards him first. It was barely the size of Hdrian’s fist, made of dark blue velvet, with a golden stag head on the top.

Hadrian opened the box only to be taken aback by the beauty of the ring. It was simple, with a golden band and a dark blue circular stone engraved with another stag head in the top.

“The stone is made of cobalt. Each ring has special properties and enchantments meant to aid the head of house. Each ring can protect you, to an extent, from most lower-level curses and spells. Aside from that, the Potter ring can give its wearer the ability to heal faster, and give more power behind defensive spells.” Griphook explained, using a tone much like McGonnagal when teaching a particularly difficult transfiguration spell. 

Hadrian did not respond, but carefully picked up the ring from its box, as if his touch could break it. It was lighter than he expected, almost weightless as Hadrian slipped it on his right ring finger. 

As soon as the ring was placed, a golden glow surrounded it and Hadrian was taken aback by the power that rushed over him. Warmth bloomed in his chest, and Hadrian’s breath caught in his throat. The feeling was incredible, it felt like a phantom embrace from his mother, it felt like safety, it felt like home. Hadrian never wanted to take it off. The golden glow gradually receded, but the feeling of safety remained. 

With a newfound confidence, Hadrian pulled the next box towards him. It was the same size and shape as the others, only this box was a solid grey velvet with a large black dog head on the top. A Grimm. Hadrian felt choked up at the sight, the crest was almost identical to Padfoot. Hadrian tore his eyes away and opened the box. Inside, the ring was made of a silver band with a black stone that seemed to reflect no light. Like the Potter ring, the Black ring had the family crest of a Grimm on the stone.

“The Black family ring,” Griphook stated, “A silver band with an obsidian stone. This ring can protect you from most, if not all mind magic and will also give more power behind offensive spells. You may slip it on the same finger as the Potter ring. If it accepts you, it will merge with the Potter ring and merge into one. Though, you may also call a specific ring to appear at will.” 

Hadrian widened his eyes. If the Black ring accepted him, he could potentially throw off any attempts at legilimency. 

He quickly took the ring from the box, but handled it just as gently as the Potter ring. Sliding the ring onto his finger, he waited with bated breath for the ring to accept him. When nothing happened, Hadrian felt dread well up in his chest. He reached up to take the ring off, but as he touched the ring, it flashed gold and Hadrian could feel a similar power run through his veins. Though the experience was similar to the Potter ring, there was no feeling of coming home. A buzz ran through his mind and he could almost feel the magic building shields in his mind, protecting it from any potential intruders. A wave of calm washed over him, and Hadrian couldn’t remember the last time he felt such peace of mind. 

Hadrian looked up to see relief flash in Griphook’s eyes, almost hidden behind his natural glowering face. 

Hadrian pulled the last box forward, shifting in his seat. It was different from the others, it was in black velvet, but instead of an animal for the crest, it had a large triangle with a circle inside of it and a straight line slashed from the top to bottom of it. 

“The deathly hallows,” Griphook remarked, his eyes searching Hadrian’s face.

“The what?” Hadrian asked. He had never heard of the deathly hallows, but from the name, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Tell me, have you ever read  _ The Tales of Beedle the Bard _ ?” Griphook leaned forward slightly in his seat.

“No, what are they?” Hadrian shook his head.

Griphook leaned back in his seat. “Children’s tales, for the most part. One particular story, The Tale of Three Brothers refers to your ancestors, the Peverell brothers. Quite an interesting read.” Hadrian waited for more explanation, but it seemed that was all Griphook was willing to say. 

Hadrian opened the box slowly, half expecting the ring to attack him after that cryptic answer. Inside sat a white band that showed a snake swallowing its own tail with a black stone sitting atop of it with the same odd symbol etched on it.

“This ring is much older than the others, and quite a bit more powerful.” Griphook explained. “This ring gives the ability for a person to become invisible at will, similar to the disillusionment charm, and…” Griphook cleared his throat, “It is rumored to temporarily bring back loved ones from death when turned three times.”

Hadrian’s head snapped up to look at Griphook. He let out a shuddered breath, if the ring accepted him, Hadrian could see Sirius… he could see his parents. A part of him wanted to see them more than anything, but another part knew no one should have this power. 

_ It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, _ Hadrian remembered Dumbledore saying to him back in a forgotten room with the Mirror of Erised. But he also remembered his father’s smile, and his mother’s shining eyes. 

_ Fuck Dumbledore, I’m going to live my dreams, and he can’t stop me. _

With shaking hands, Hadrian took out the ring, and gently slipped it on his finger. The reaction was immediate, the golden glow of the rings merging together to form one was glorious. Hadrian felt a rush of power over him again, but unlike the other rings, he was not met with the warmth of home, or a rush of calm safety. There was only power, and a shift in his soul, as if it were finally balanced in place. 

In a flash of light, Hadrian thought he saw a man in a black cloak outside the window of Griphook’s office, but when he looked, all he saw was the rising sun. Dismissing his paranoid thoughts, Hadrian turned back to Griphook. 

“Well,” Hadrian said, “What now?”

-

**Albus**

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, nursing his shrivelled, lame hand, trying to focus on paperwork for the upcoming school year. Although summer had just begun, it seemed his work was never finished. 

Albus’ eyes flicked to the left, where the ring which had caused him so much grief sat in a magical bubble. It was his own fault, really. In his haste to see Ariana, he had completely forgotten the damned thing was a horcrux, and now he only had a year at best to set his affairs in order. 

Settling in to focus on his work, Albus gasped in surprise when the magical bubble surrounding the former horcrux popped, and the ring vanished from the office.

“ _ No, _ ” Albus hissed. He hurriedly opened the drawer to his right, where the Potter and Black vault keys sat. His eyes widened when, instead of two Gringotts keys, Albus saw only an empty drawer.

“ _ No! _ ” Albus yelled. He couldn’t believe Harry would disobey him. He had given the boy direct orders to stay home. 

His work forgotten, Albus took a handful of floo powder and threw it in the fire.

Stepping inside, Albus roared “ _ Gringotts! _ ”

Unnoticed by Albus, the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black snickered in his seat. 

-

**Tonks**

The sun had just barely risen above the horizon when Tonks woke with a start. Falling from her bed, Tonks felt a shit in her core, like a puzzle she didn’t know was there had just obtained its last piece.

_ The Black family magic, _ she realized.

Pulling herself up off the floor, Tonks ran towards her parents room, to find her mother already in the hallway, on the way to Tonks, with her father standing bleary eyed in the doorway.

“Mum, can you feel it?” Tonks asked, breathless.

“ _ Yes _ , but how?” Andromeda questioned.

“Oh, who cares?” Tonks exclaimed, stepping forward to embrace her mother.

Andromeda let out a choked sob into her daughter’s shoulder, tears of joy wetting her Tonks’  _ Weird Sisters _ t-shirt.

“I never thought I’d feel it again,” Andromeda whispered. The two women stood there for a time, crying tears of joy and hope, while Tonks’ father stood there awkwardly, not sure what was happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Harry!
> 
> I hope you guys are staying safe and healthy!


End file.
